


I Would Fast For You

by AnotherWorld3111



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, Fasting, First Kiss, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Russian Castiel, Sam Winchester in a coma, it's a terrible life au, light h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 15:45:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14718983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherWorld3111/pseuds/AnotherWorld3111
Summary: Beth Roberts only intended it to be a passing comment, but if there was the slightest chance it would help Sam, then Dean would do anything. Even if it meant giving up pies, burgers... and making up with Castiel Novak?





	I Would Fast For You

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to thank tumblr user @deanwinbean to the high heavens for this, cuz I seriously couldn’t have even started this off (and subsequently went through with it) without you. So thank you, thank you, thank you (for this and anything and everything else) ;)

He was regretting this. 

It was a simple, passing comment, really. People had been coming to visit, and he’d overheard Beth talking to mom, trying to placate her with various spiritual methods that could possibly help. Frankly, the last thing Dean could see himself doing was… this.

Except Sam had gotten worse that very night. Next thing Dean knew, he was fasting. 

_ “My mother, when I was sick as a child, she’d fast. It was something the Hindus would do, fast as a means of prayer… or a sacrifice. Giving up their meals in return for the wellbeing of someone else.” _

And really, what was a few meals out of his day in return for Sam waking up?

So here he was. Six hours into Dean’s day, minus his morning coffee, breakfast, snacks, and by now, his lunch. 

The others weren’t letting him forget the latter either. Noon meant lunchtime, and lunchtime meant, well. 

Alright, so it wasn’t so much as his coworkers in general, seeing as the ones at his floor were by now his friends, as much as a particular Castiel Novak. His friends at least knew what was going on, and when they realized Dean wasn’t eating - which they figured out soon enough. An uncaffeinated-Dean was quite unlike a well-fed Dean - they were kind enough to take their lunch away to the actual break room. 

But Novak?

Dude was holed up in his office except for when he came out to mingle with the employees under his division. And apparently for today, it meant that he was lunching along with them as well. Which also meant that Dean was getting a noseful of whatever dish Castiel brought. That he could smell all the way from the break room. And through his own office door.

Dean was really regretting this.

But just as quickly as the emotion came, it dispersed. Visions of Sam filled his head, unmoving on the hospital bed, as pale as the sheets under him. And with that, Dean found his hunger vanishing as well, along with a newfound vigor to keep working. 

It lasted until he left the safety of his own room, and bumped into Zachariah. Head of their department, meaning his and Novak’s superior (and the latter’s uncle)... and currently eating a pastry. 

Eyes automatically drawn to the pastry, it took Dean a few seconds to slowly look up from the hand holding it to the mouth chewing it - which thankfully chased away his hunger in time to tune back into what Zachariah was saying by the time he met his eyes.

“--your brother, quite sorry about that. Are the Morningstar accounts taken care of?” Brisk and uncaring as always. Dean could deal with that.

Breezing through his report, mind several miles away, he missed the look of disdain Novak sent him as he passed by them to head into his own office.

oOo

The next day wasn’t as bad. Sure, Novak brought his as usual mouthwatering scent of whatever homemade meal it was for his lunch, but Dean soon found that listening to ACDC while working wasn’t distracting at all. On the contrary, it distracted him enough from his surrounding environment to dive into the day’s work with unusual gusto that left him feeling drained but satisfied, which lasted for until Dean made his routinely visit to the hospital. 

Sam wasn’t getting any better, and the doctors were debating on another surgery at this point.

The news left him with a dark cloud hanging over him for the rest of the night, carrying well into the next day. It got to the point that Charlie intercepted him as he was heading to the bathroom - and it amazed him, how he still had anything to get out when he was barely eating anyway - as usual, willing to lend a helpful ear.

“I don’t know what to do.” Dean confessed in a silent whisper. Charlie didn’t let up from her comforting rubs on his bicep, which helped to ground Dean enough to go on. “There’s nothing I can do,” he corrected. “Except to do this damn fasting, but all it’s been doing is make things worse--”

“You can’t know it’s because of your fasting.” Charlie said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. As much as I don’t believe in all this, and want to say that you fasting is no way going to correlate with Sam’s health, maybe you should take that in a positive note? That maybe you can give up, try finding something else… or maybe this is just the way for Sam to get better? Get a little worse before he heals up?”

Dean stared. “That was the worst reasoning I’ve ever heard.” He stated flatly, but it didn’t stop Charlie from giving an ever winning smile. 

“I try.”

Dean sighed. “It’s just a few more days. Beth suggested about a week, and besides. Mom started doing it as well, so. Four more days, and if Sam doesn’t get better…”

“Look up alternative methods for you to do something that could help Sam wake up from his coma?” 

Dean shook his head, unable to meet Charlie’s eyes when his heart gave another painful pang.

oOo

Pie day.

An honest to god. Pie day. 

And of course, it was funded by Castiel Novak. Of-fucking-course it was.

Metallica didn’t stop blaring from his headphones for the rest of the day. 

The slice of pie on his desk managed to make it home unscathed - the idea of tossing it was banished as soon as it came - but by the time Mary set the table for a slightly delayed dinner, Dean was back to feeling too morose to even eat a single bite of anything.

The pie went uneaten into the fridge. 

Sam went into surgery the next day.

It’s not like Castiel hated Dean Winchester.

Except, fine. He totally did. For all Castiel cared, this white washed American man was stealing his uncle’s attention, and as much as Castiel hated sounding like a whiny brat, it was the truth. Castiel had already had a hard time living up to his family’s expectations, and even making the executive decision to move to the States from his home country with his uncle and a select few cousins was met with some disapproval. So when a man in his thirties who had only just graduated from University was snatched up by his uncle and quickly promoted to rival Castiel’s own position that he had to fight a lot harder for? 

It didn’t take much for Castiel to resent the hell out of the man.

It wasn’t like he tried to actively make Dean’s life a living hell for being such an irritant in Castiel’s life, but when he heard that the ever-famed, suave, ladies man with a body to rival the gods was trying out fasting as a means of diet? The malicious part of Castiel couldn’t help but act out in spite.

Granted, the past few days that he’d been bringing homemade meals that reminded him of his caretaker’s cooking from back in Russia was purely unintentional. He’d been craving the nostalgia, but only later realized how much it must have aggravated Dean upon reflecting his employees’ compliments on his recreation of Nora’s food. 

The Pie Day at work wasn’t as accidental. And it definitely was not an accident to sneak into Dean’s office before he arrived to place a piece of cherry pie on his desk. 

He wasn’t sure if he felt as victorious as he would have liked when he saw Dean walking out from work with it carefully wrapped in his hands though. Obviously, Dean must have felt some sort of inability to resist the thought of eating it later, but the fact that he actually managed to restrain himself anyway? It could only mean that Castiel had to up his game.

So it was with that in mind that he started to make preparations for the next in-office lunch. A side benefit was that it made his employees warm up to him, which would only have to make Zachariah acknowledge him, begrudging as it may be. But for now, he was too busy calculating how much it would cost his personal wallet to buy the entire floor burgers when none other than Dean knocked on his door.

Unable to stop his eyebrows from raising in surprise beforehand, he straightened up from where he’d been slouching in front of his computer as Dean let himself in, holding a stack of papers. Castiel couldn’t help but notice how tired he was looking, and took a moment to wonder why the man was even doing this to himself. It wasn’t like Dean Winchester of all people needed to  _ fast  _ of all things to help his shape, with how good looking he already was.

Objectively speaking.

“Got the response from Morningstar.” Dean said, placing the stack of papers on Castiel’s desk, sliding it over to him. His movements were slow and measured, as if one action done too fast would leave him dizzy.

Castiel tilted his head, but reached for the reports anyway. His hand nudged his computer, and the already tilted screen was now moved enough for Dean to get a glimpse of what was on it, with where he was positioned. 

Instantly, Castiel was struck with an idea that he found himself executing before he could even think about it.

He hummed noncommittally as he picked up the papers, leafing through them absently. His focus was centered on his computer instead, and opposite to it, Dean. He hadn’t gotten a glimpse of Castiel’s screen yet, but one more careful nudge made to look unthinking got it well within Dean’s line of vision, and he knew the moment Dean saw it.

Straightening, Dean started to stare at Castiel with an intensity that he’d never displayed before. Castiel would have been disturbed, had he not figured it out to be Dean trying to look anywhere else apart from the enlarged picture of a burger on his large Mac screen. Castiel was admittedly not exactly sure why Dean chose to look studiously at him though.

“Alright. Just fax it to Adler and he can take care of the rest of it. God knows the man could try to do something right in his life.” Castiel said, his voice a mere mutter, but ensuring that Dean would still be able to hear him. Judging by Dean’s pause and raised eyebrows, he definitely did.

“Oh?” Carefully poised to pass off as an absent enquiry for more should Castiel wish to speak, he couldn’t deny that Dean Winchester was perfectly eloquent when he wished to be. Then again, that was one of the many reasons Zachariah chose him over Castiel.

Newfound anger rushed within him, giving Castiel the boost he didn’t need to go on.

“Mhm.” Castiel said, careful to keep his voice even as finally pushed the papers back to Dean. “Man thinks he’s helping when all he’s doing is sitting from his high chair and making decisions regarding issues he doesn’t even bother to be well informed about.” He pointedly glared at Dean. It wasn’t like they were unaware of the hatred they held for each other, though he wasn’t sure if Dean knew why Castiel hated him. In fact, he could still remember Dean’s cheery smile when he greeted Castiel on Dean’s first day at the office. But at Castiel’s continuous cool indifference - to put it mildly - it didn’t take long for Dean to return the mutual dislike. 

So cue him making a remark that should be all means be as unassuming on his side as possible, but aware that Dean was going to eat it up and apply it to his stupid diet. 

But instead of glaring back at Castiel as he expected, Dean suddenly froze, hand still outstretched to take the papers back from Castiel. He started to lose color rapidly, to the point that Castiel started to get concerned despite himself.

“Winchester?” Castiel prompted, trying to shake himself out of his own worry along with Dean’s stupor. 

Swallowing, Dean came back to himself. Nostrils flaring, he grabbed the papers, and left Castiel’s office without another word. 

Castiel was left wondering why the emotion swirling in his guts identified as guilt instead of smug triumph.

* * *

 

He couldn’t feel anything.

Granted, he was probably just too tired to. But… ever since Novak’s comment, hitting far too close to home than the guy probably intended, it took everything in Dean to be able to finish his work for the day before leaving. And it was only because his mind managed to work on automatic that he found himself at the hospital several minutes later in one piece. 

Walking towards Sam’s room, mind still dazed, it took him a while to notice his mom sitting outside Sammy’s room, asleep. He briefly debated on waking her up, before leaving her to be, and strode into Sam’s room instead. 

The sight of his brother hooked onto the incubator jarred him enough to bring him back to his body, grounding him with an alarming intensity.

His bones felt like they were dragging him down, and he barely managed to drag himself to the chair beside Sam’s bed before collapsing.

Dean leaned forward, taking Sam’s cool hand in his.

“Hey, Sammy.” He paused. For a moment, the only sound to fill the room was the hissing of the incubator, in place of where Sam would be talking back to him right about now. 

“Doc’s saying you’re coming along nicely from surgery,” Dean started, but just as quickly he stopped, letting his head hang. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, man. You’re just… it’s been days. Days and nothing, and all we can do is wait, but.” Dean swallowed. “You gotta wake up, Sammy.” He took a deep breath. “Things just aren’t the same ‘round here without my annoying little brother, and… I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you.” He stuttered, trying to close his eyes in an attempt to avoid the tears pooling in them to fall onto the hand he was holding up to his chin now. “I don’t know if I can do this without you, Sammy.” 

His grip on Sam’s hands tightened. The tears slipped through his closed eyelids anyway.

oOo

They took Sammy off of the incubator the next day. It wasn’t much, but seeing Sam breathe on his own, his chest rising without the aid of a machine… Dean felt like he was breathing for the first time in his life alongside his brother. Fasting that day felt a lot easier, despite the fact that Novak had ordered burgers for the entire floor. 

He still didn’t leave his office though, and goes through his entire Led Zeppelin track that day.

* * *

 

When Castiel realized Dean shut himself away in his office again, there was no way he was going to let Winchester be just like that. So he goes and grabs a burger, not really paying much attention to it except to ensure that it looks as aesthetically pleasing as a burger could, before walking over to Bradbury.

“Hey, Mr. Novak!” She’s got a smile at the ready for him, but he knows it’s also mainly because the girl is perpetually cheery. Doesn’t mean he wouldn't be wary of her. Castiel’s got first hand experience of what the girl can do with a computer, and knows well enough to stay on her goodside. 

So it’s with that in mind that he returns her smile, trying to seem as genuinely kind as possible.

“Hello, Charlie.” He held out the plate in his hand, Charlie’s eyes drawn to it at his movement. “Do you mind giving this to Winchester? I noticed he hasn’t really come out of his office all day, and while I would give it to him myself…” he shrugged, keeping his face impassive, but knowing that Charlie would get the message. 

Charlie reared back, looking uncertain. “Oh, um.” She hesitated, not bothering to take the plate from him. “I, uh. Don’t think I should.”

Castiel tilted his head, pasting a look of confusion on his face. “Why not? You are his friend, and from what I’ve heard, Winchester favors American burgers.” 

Charlie shot him an unsteady smile. “Well, you heard right. Thing is, Dean’s been sort’ve… fasting lately.” 

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “Fasting?” He adjusted his tone so that it came out more inquiring rather than as skeptical as he still felt about the whole ordeal.

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, his brother was in an accident, and he still hasn’t woken up from a coma.” And suddenly, Castiel has got a very bad feeling about this. The hand holding up the plate lowered as guilt viciously pounds through his stomach. The burger he himself had taken a few bites of earlier revolted within him. “And apparently, someone told Dean that like maybe fasting would help, though it doesn’t make any sense, ‘cause Dean is like the furthest thing from religious, but hey, desperate times…” she trailed off, abruptly looking very somber. 

She suddenly shook her head, visibly shaking herself out of whatever thoughts she’d sunken into. “Yeah, so… I mean, I appreciate the gesture, and I’m sure Dean would, too. But, I really don’t think now’s the best time.” She shot Castiel an apologetic smile, none of which he really registers, as his mind is too busy replaying what Charlie said a few sentences ago.

_ “His brother was in an accident, and he still hasn’t woken up from a coma.”  _

Fuck, if Castiel didn’t make probably the biggest error in his life.

He barely manages to stumble through some last few pleasantries with Charlie before he excused himself, dumping the burger on Fitzgerald’s desk as he made his way to Winchester’s office. Approaching the closed door, he only paused long enough to knock on it before softly pushing it open, peeking in before stepping inside. 

“Dean?” Dimly, he’s aware that this was probably the first time Castiel’s called him by his first name, but he’s too busy taking in the weary man for that.

Dean looked up from a report, a pen dangling from his fingers. At the sight of Castiel, he quirked his eyebrows, but nonetheless puts his pen down. He absently straightened his back as they tended to do in each other’s presence, their posturing now instinctive. 

Castiel doesn’t bother doing the same. Instead, he chose to slink down in the chair in front of Dean’s desk, after a barely noticeable moment of hesitation. Yet, somehow, he knew Dean saw it anyway.

“I wanted to… apologize.” He began. Immediately, Dean’s eyebrows skyrocket. Before he can reply, Castiel went on. “I know I’ve always been rather short with you since your arrival, and it was… highly immature of me. But my actions of late have crossed a line that should not have been crossed, for which I wanted to utter my sincerest apologies.” He’s aware that his voice sounded pained, but rather than it being because of the words he’s having to drag out of himself, it’s because of the reminder of his actions he’s trying to talk about. 

Which, judging by Dean’s blank look, he had no idea what Castiel was talking about.

“The ‘Pie Day,’ and the burgers today,” Castiel elaborated with a sigh, absently waving his hand. “They were meant to… mock you. And what I assumed was your diet. I just found out right now about your true intentions for fasting, and how it had nothing to do with your vanity, but instead of your brother.” 

Too late, he wonders if maybe talking about Dean’s brother to him wasn’t the wisest idea, when, for all intents and purposes, Dean still hated him - and even more so with the reasons Castiel was providing him with.

Sure enough, Dean’s mouth draws into a grim line, body stiffening more than it already had the moment Castiel stepped foot inside his office.

“So for that, I express my sincerest apologies.” Swallowing, Castiel started to stand up, deciding now was as good of a time as any to leave. He’d said his bit, and it didn’t look like Dean was going to amend bridges any time soon - not that they had any to begin with - even though it was in his complete right to avoid doing so. So Castiel saw no other reason to continue staying here. He was probably only aggravating Dean further anyway. “I had no right to mock you like that, and…” he paused, now standing right behind the chair he’d previously been seated on. “I do hope your brother wakes up soon.” He said. And still not meeting Dean’s eyes, he left the man’s office.

oOo

He was just packing up his briefcase when there’s a knock on the door. He looks up just in time to see Dean making his way into Castiel’s office, looking unsure.

“Dean.” He said, trying to keep his voice warm, the complete opposite of the usual tone he was prone to adopt when speaking to Dean prior. “What can I do for you?” 

Dean hesitated. He was looking around Castiel’s office as if it was the first time he was visiting.

“My mom called. She told me someone just sent a bouquet of ‘get well soon’ flowers to Sammy’s room.” 

Ah. Castiel was hoping Dean wouldn’t have found out about that until much later, or even if he did, didn’t put the pieces together.

It amazed him, how much Dean managed to surprise Castiel, despite feeling like he’d just managed to figure Dean out. 

Castiel cleared his throat, feeling as awkward as Dean looked. “If I crossed a line…” He started, but Dean shook his head.

“Nah, it’s not that.” He said quickly. After a moment, he finally turned to look at Castiel. “You didn’t have to do it. I mean, it’s not like you insulted him or anything.” 

Castiel bowed his head, the unsaid  _ not like you insulted me  _ heard loud and clear. “I still owed him an apology. By offending you, I indirectly insulted him. And while I can’t… make amends as well as I would have liked to, I figured this was a safe method.”

For a moment, they were silent. Castiel didn’t say anything, all too aware of Dean regarding him, and let him to be the one to break the silence first.

Dean let out a small, humorless chuckle, briefly looking at the ground before raising his head again. “I was actually, uh. Wondering if you would wanna visit Sam with me.”

The polite decline is at the tip of Castiel’s tongue, because as much as he wanted to, he knew it wasn’t his place. And he’s just about to, when the words tumbled out of his mouth, leaving him firmly befuddled when he registered them himself. 

“If it’s not too much trouble…”

Dean shook his head. “I wouldn’t invite you if it were, would I?”

Castiel carefully shrugged. 

Dean drove ahead in his Impala, Castiel following behind in his own car as they drove to the hospital. The drive seemed to take longer than it usually did, but by the time they were parked and walking side by side with a respectable distance between them into the hospital, Dean was wondering what in the high heavens possessed him to invite Castiel along.

By the time they approached the corridor leading to Sam’s room, he still didn’t get an answer, and that was the last he could think of it before they were in front of Sammy’s room. 

Just as he pushed open the door, he hesitated. It always took a moment for him to brace himself before stepping inside, and like all the other times, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath, momentarily forgetting Castiel was there.

And then he opened his eyes, pushing the door open.

“Castiel,” he stepped forward and into the room. “Meet my brother, Sam Winchester.”

oOo

He didn’t have to look to know how pale his brother looked, how gaunt and still he was. It was such a stark contrast to Sammy’s usual liveliness, the spirit and energy that his mere presence could bring to the room. All of it was gone, replaced with the soft, muted whites of silent illness, blending Sam along with it. And Dean still found his eyes drawn and held to the sight of his brother on that hospital bed that Dean didn’t have to be on himself to hate with a passion. 

When Sam gets out of here, he was gonna damn well make sure they didn’t have a reason to step back into a hospital for another lifetime. 

Beside him, he heard Castiel breathe in sharply, and he abruptly remembered the man’s presence. Stepping forward, he let his fingers graze the back of Sam’s hand in a sort of greeting before slowly pulling himself back.

“What happened?” Castiel’s voice was soft, open and genuine, and Dean knew that even if he didn’t reply, Castiel wouldn’t take offense. That he wouldn’t be as rebuffed as he would have been even a few hours ago.

“He was in a car accident. Dad was driving and a semi ran a red light, colliding with them on dad’s side.” He swallowed, trying to get his voice to stay even, despite the tears already making their way to his eyes. 

“Dad didn’t make it.” He said softly, not taking his eyes off of Sam. “I’ll be damned if Sammy doesn’t either.” 

He hadn’t meant to say that part aloud, but it was out there, and for better or worse, Castiel heard it. He could feel Castiel hesitating, before slowly placing a hand on his shoulder, Castiel stiff and ready to move away should Dean demand it. He didn’t say anything, however, and didn’t move either.

They stayed like that, not saying a word, until it was time for them to leave.

oOo

It was a Saturday, the last day Dean had to fast, and he was spending the entire time by Sam’s side, absently recounting tales from their childhood. He was just in the middle of when Sammy found out the easter bunny wasn’t real - and his subsequent emotions at that - when there was a knock on the door.

He turned around in his seat to see Castiel standing there, and he was momentarily confused, wondering if he forgot to turn in some reports before realizing that one, they weren’t at the office, they were at the hospital, and two, Castiel wasn’t wearing a suit.

Dean’s throat went dry.

He knew, Castiel was good looking. Anyone with two working eyes could have seen that, and to be subjected with the vision of Novak in a suit almost every day of the week, it was actually a blessing when the guy was a jerk, as it helped Dean get over his infatuation pretty damn quick.

But now, standing in front of Dean in only jeans and an AC/DC t-shirt, with sunglasses folded down at the neckline?

Dean hastily readjusted himself. 

“Hey,” he nodded, silently panicking when Castiel seemed to take that as a sign to step in. He didn’t come any further, but Dean’s neck was started to hurt from where he was twisting his head around to look at him. So with slow, deliberate movements, he shifted himself on his seat so that he could see Castiel better whilst still covering his lap. “What’s up?”

Castiel took a few steps closer. “I, uh, heard you were here.” When Dean raised his eyebrows, he was surprised to see Castiel blush at that. “Thought I could give you some company, if you… weren’t averse to the idea.”

Well, technically speaking, he would have been fine to be with just Sammy, unforth as his brother was with replying. But the man was here, and rising a hunger in Dean that had nothing to do with food, and apparently his lack of actual food and therefore nutrients led Dean to saying what he said next.

“No problem. Grab a chair, I was just talking about how this dude here didn’t find out that the easter bunny was real until he was eleven.” He nodded at his brother, and was pleased to see a small smile gracing Castiel’s lips in reply.

“The easter bunny isn’t real?” Castiel asked, and Dean could see the faint hint of mock disbelief in his eyes, causing Dean to grin wider. “Are you sure? Because where we come from, the easter bunny is very real.”

Dean let out a chuckle, feeling more relaxed than he’d ever been with this guy before. “Man, something tells me wherever you come from is probably very wild.”

Castiel grinned, tilting his head. “Russia has its perks, yes.”

Dean just about swallowed his tongue.

“You’re from Russia?” He managed, his voice sounding a lot less composed than he liked. 

Castiel narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Dean. “Yes?”

“Ah.”

They were silent for a moment. 

“So… can you say anything in Russian?”

oOo

Turns out, Cas could say a lot of things in Russian. He barely realized how much time was flying until visiting hours was over, and a nurse dropped by to remind them of the time. As Cas started to get up and stretch, Dean finally got a glimpse of the time, shocked at the realization that he’d practically spent an entire day with Novak… and not felt an ounce of hatred or anger that he usually did. 

He was also still surprised that it was really late, and he had no idea of the time passing. “Man, I’m so sorry, I must have kept you from lunch, and, wow, your dinner as well at this rate. I hope you didn’t have any plans…” Dean trailed off, his voice disappearing on him as Cas bent backwards, a teasing strip of skin appearing as his shirt hiked up, before it fell back down as Cas straightened, looking slightly abashed.

“Actually… I decided to take a leaf out of your book.” When Dean’s eyes narrowed in confusion, after Cas took a remarkably long time to elaborate, he did so with a sigh, not meeting Dean’s eyes. “I thought I might fast as well. You know, for your brother,” he waved towards Sam, a half hearted gesture pointed behind Dean, but Dean found himself too stunned to pay attention to any of that.

“You’re… fasting?” 

Cas shrugged, looking away. “Surely, whatever belief you held that it would help wake your brother, it felt wrong of me not to at least do the same.”

Dean would blame the lack of food for what he did next.

Striding forward, he only had a second to catch Cas’s surprised glance before he was slamming their lips together. Cas grunted, shock rendering him frozen, before he was quickly responding, hands tearing into Dean’s hair and grabbing onto his waist, holding Dean tight against himself.

Dean cradled Cas’s jaw, pressing kiss after searing kiss against those soft lips, unable to resist nuzzling Cas’s stubble at one point. Several long moments passed before they were able to tear themselves away, but still holding onto each other, they tried to regain their breaths, their exhales a soft puff against the other’s face.

“I guess I can ask you out for dinner another day?” 

Dean grinned. He was just about to respond when there was a groan from behind him.

“Unbelievable. I’m waking up in a hospital and the first thing I still see is Dean getting some. Unbelievable.” Sam repeated.


End file.
